


Marrow

by Johnismyloveforever64



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M, Medical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:33:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 16,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2055588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnismyloveforever64/pseuds/Johnismyloveforever64
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on tour, Paul collapses, finding out he has some sort of rare bone marrow disease. John is put in a difficult position.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can This Get Any Worse?

It was their final day in the middle of America. They had forgotten the city and the state by now, and were just glad to be flying to sunny California for six days and eight shows. Ringo was already planning all of their rehearsals around time at the beach. “Tanned, skinny American byrds, what could be better?” He had been saying all day. Brian tried to convince them that they were going to San Fransico first, and that there were no beaches, but the lads ignored him. all they could think about was sand and sun. where they were in Middle America there was neither. They had traveled to various cities and states skimming the coasts and only sticking to the center of the map, and there was no sun and definitely no sand. Except for the one time when they played at a really sad fake beach on the northern part of Middle America. So, they were eager to get their final show over with. They were almost there. finally, completing rehearsals and sound check, and the only thing left was to wait until show time. They waited in a large dressing room decked out with the finest candies and chocolates, the most interesting thing that Brian could find for them to do. they sat back and relaxed on big couches, silently picking at their bowls of candy.   
None of them had anything to say after having spent the past twenty-nine days together. There were few moments where they were all awake and apart. They were getting a little sick of looking at each other, though they didn’t express it. they just chose not to talk or look at each other, occasionally glaring at the person across from him.   
Brian was also at the edge of his nerves. He was worn out of having to organize and pull together appearances for the boys, and he was also tired of looking at their faces, and particularly their hair. He was sick of the mop top, and kept plotting to cut their hair while they were sleeping. He never did it, because he knew the fans would faint, and he would probably be found dead somewhere for doing it, but also because he knew the boys would probably kill him too. He feared dying twice by the people that gave him his life…particularly the yacht. But, the constant plotting did keep him occupied enough that he didn’t go completely mad.   
The clock seemed to tick at an indescribably slow rate that it was making the boys mad just sitting there. they wanted nothing more than to walk up on that stage and sing Twist and Shout one more bloody time, and then off they’d go to the holiday part of the tour. Sure, they’d still have to sing it eight more times, but they could do it in the sun, and that was all they cared about then. It had rained the entire tour, and they were more than tired of raincoats and wellingtons.   
So, looking up at the clock, Paul stood up quickly to go to the loo, trying to do anything that would occupy his time. Immediately he felt faint. He pretended like he was fine and rushed to the loo. When he returned he still felt that way, and now everyone had noticed. Concerned, John said, “Paul…you look terrible. What the fuck did you eat?” Paul gave him a funny look that was supposed to be bitchy, but ended up just making him look sicker. he was starting to shake, and everyone told him to sit down. Brian got up to phone a doctor, and George reached out to grab him before he fell, but nothing any of them could say to stop Paul from losing consciousness and falling to the cold hard ground with a thud. John immediately jumped to the ground next to his face, and picked him up gently and placed him in his lap, putting his best mate’s head in his lap. He stroked Paul’s mop top back, and kissed his shut eye lids as he moaned softly.   
Brian got one of the medics around the stadium. Ringo sat on the couch just above Paul’s head looking down at him, concerned. He had been that collapsed Beatle before, and he knew the results could be bad. He worried for Paul, knowing that this could be the beginning of a long and tough road for Paul, that he’s most likely unprepared for. So, he reached forward and stroked Paul’s soft cheek. John looked up at him, a little surprised.  
Ringo saw the sadness and concern in John’s eyes, and squeezed his hand. John’s other hand still was stroking Paul’s hair. George got up from where he was sitting and sat on the other side of Paul, taking Ringo’s other hand. He looked down at Paul, they all did, and his lip quivered as he kissed the cheek of his older brother. “Aw, George,” John cooed, rubbing his cheek with the hand that was holding Ringo’s. he never took a handoff of Paul.   
Mal Evans, their roadie, along with Neil Aspinall, their stage manager, rushed into the room. They just stood over the scene looking down, they originally had a purpose coming in there, but just froze. They boys didn’t look up at them, even though they noticed them coming in. finally, Neil cleared his throat and said, “There’s about four-thousand people out there, and you were supposed to be on two minutes ago.” the boys exchanged a look, and then both George and Ringo were looking at John urgently. He sighed, but didn’t move from his position, and looked up.   
“Neil, I’m sorry, but what are we supposed to do about Paul? we can’t play without him,” John said with finality. Neil didn’t seem perturbed, so he just continued.  
“I know you think that, but you are going to have to. the crowd would be happier with three Beatles rather than none,” he explained.   
“We’ve done it before,” Ringo reminded them.   
“But, we had time to warn them. they knew what they were getting, but here…who knows what they’ll do. they might riot,” John argued. Mal commented that John had a good point, and John gave Neil a cocky smile. Neil rolled his eyes dramatically.   
“They’d be more likely to riot if there was none of you. So, all I ask is that you go out there, explain the situation, and play Twist and Shout at least once. Maybe twice if they’re as bad as you think,” Neil replied conclusively. George and Ringo exchanged a look and then nodded. John looked down at Paul, still stroking his hair. He didn’t look up as he said, “I’m not leaving him alone.” His voice was shaking and rough. Mal patted his head lovingly. Neil knelt down next to him, realizing quickly that this was more than just about John’s stubbornness.   
“John, Mal and I will be here. Brian will be back in a minute, I swear. The doctor is coming, and they’ll take care of him,” he explained calmly, a little too calmly in John’s perspective. He looked up at Neil, and he saw in his eyes pain.   
“Will he be here when we get back?” John asked in a hushed tone. Ringo and George exchanged a worried look. Ringo put a hand on his shoulder. They all looked up hopefully at Neil, even though they all knew the answer.  
“Brian called 911. The ambulance will be here very soon.”  
“We have to go with him,” George whispered before John could. John looked at him in surprise. “I mean it,” he continued.  
“Neil, just go out there and tell the fans,” Mal told Neil.   
“No,” Ringo interjected. “I’ll go, but if I’m not back in time…” he paused and looked down at his mate, “Just…just tell him that I know what he’s going through, and it’s not the end of the world.” He kissed his hand before walking out of the room. John and George looked at each other. They shared a nonverbal understanding that they were the last ones and they had to stay with Paul.


	2. And It Keeps Going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul is taken to the hospital. John has to cope.

Out on stage, Ringo nervously walked up to John’s microphone. The fans began to scream uncontrollably, but there was a level of confusion amongst the Beatlemaniacs. “Fans, fans, excuse me, this is important,” he screamed into the microphone, but no one beyond the first few rows could hear him. he sighed, and looked down, and then grabbed the microphone again. He had no idea what he was supposed to say to them. he had a feeling Neil was supposed to fill him in, but he rushed out of the room so fast, filled with adrenaline, that he ignored that part. It wasn’t until he was standing there with four-thousand people—mostly young girls—who had devoted their young lives to him and his friends, were staring at him that he realized that. So, he coughed into the microphone and no one seemed to even notice, and then he screamed, “I’m just Ringo! I’m not even the one you like so just shut up!” They all froze, took it as a meta joke, and started laughing. He banged his head against the mike. “Girls, listen to me—no one scream! We can’t perform tonight. I know, I know, I know I just killed all of your teenage dreams by saying that, and I feel awful about it, but we wouldn’t cancel it if it wasn’t serious, and it is.” he sighed again, feeling scared of their reaction to everything he was saying as he was saying it. they seemed frozen in disbelief and shock. He felt awful—not that it was his fault—but he was starting to wish he hadn’t volunteered to do this. “Girls—and boys if you’re out there—the thing is, that Paul got sick, and he needs a doctor—immediately—and he won’t be able to perform tonight. I don’t know when he will be able to again, but tonight…none of us are in a state to perform,” and before they could riot he rushed from the stage. He heard a lot of screaming and crying, and he felt guilty as he ran back to the dressing room. 

When the door to the dressing room closed behind Ringo, Brian immediately reopened it with the medic trailing behind him carrying a black bag. He dashed to Paul’s side, studying him closely to make sure he was still breathing okay. he nodded to the medic, who came to Paul’s side. George, reluctantly, scooted away from Paul giving the medic some room. John stayed where he was.

“John, you’re going to have to move,” Brian told him with a sigh, knowing how John would react. John, as predictable as ever retorted, “Why should I let go? he’s safe in my lap.”  
“He can stay,” the medic interrupted. Brian looked up at the ceiling, trying to hide his annoyance, but mostly to avoid looking at the smug look on John’s face.   
The medic immediately started to examine Paul, checking all his vitals. After just two minutes the medic determined that he had a 104 degree fever, and that’s what made him pass out. that’s when the ambulance arrived. Three EMTs came in with a stretcher and lifted Paul onto it, John had to—not as reluctantly as everyone thought—let go. Before he did he gave Paul a quick kiss on the lips, before anyone else saw. He held Paul’s hand as they pulled him out of the room, and out of the side of the stadium. They all followed. Neil was looking back, hoping none of the fans were following them. they all got on the ambulance with Paul, and John stayed by his side the whole time, never letting go of his guitar playing hand. 

George was on the other side of him just staring again. He had been close with Paul since he was eleven years old and Paul was twelve. It was hard for him to see his mate like this. his lip quivered again. Brian put an arm around him and kissed the top of his head. George looked up at him with tear filled eyes. 

In the corner of the ambulance, Neil and Mal muttered to each other. Neil muttered to Mal, “Why do you reckon John hasn’t cried yet?” Mal shrugged.   
“I don’t think it really hit him yet, but once it does…we’ll know.” 

Just as the ambulance was taking off Ringo ran up to it and was banging on the back of it. George and John stared in shock out of the little windows at their band mate banging against the truck.

“Stop!” George commanded. The ambulance driver, taken a little off guard, slammed his breaks, and John let him in. he looked at Paul lying there and he thought he looked a little peaceful. 

“He’s not in pain, don’t worry. He’s just sleeping, that’s all,” Ringo told the guys. They just looked at him blankly. He gave them a little smile, “The fans took it…well I left before I could really tell, but I feel really bad.” he spoke in a rush. 

“I do too,” John admitted, “But, we’ll come back to…where are we…?” 

“Kansas,” Brian answered.

“Kansas!” John finished with a smile, but it faded quickly as his eyes trailed down to his love. He had fallen in love with Paul shortly after they met, and as much John would hate to admit it, it was love at first sight. Not so much for Paul, though. It took a couple of years for him to really catch on, but one drunken lonely night in Paris, the two confessed their secret love for each other, and made love along the Seine. John had stuck by his side for years, never really being open about the true nature of their relationship. John loved Paul deeply, and he hated seeing him like this. he looked fragile—and not in the cute way that John liked—but like he could shatter into millions of tiny pieces if he touched him the wrong way, or even so slightly moved he’d be like an old tea set and go from porcelain to dust in seconds. With that he tightened his grip, feeling protective of him.   
“See what I mean,” Mal was saying, “He’ll be balling in seconds.”

The ambulance reached the hospital, and everyone piled out of the back of the ambulance like a clown car. The EMTs dragged Paul’s stretcher into the E.R with everyone rushing after him. adrenaline rushed through them the way the beginning of a concert would make them give them.


	3. In a Hospital Far Far Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul's checked into the hospital, while doctors scramble to figure out what's wrong with him. the others are left devastated and worried.

Inside they pulled Paul down a long hallway, and only George, Ringo, and John were still following. They were running like they were being chased by fans. John had lost his grip moments before, and was furious about it. he reached out and tried to grab his hand like a marathon runner might reach out to grab a baton. He finally got his hand back, but felt like he was being pulled. George and Ringo had finally stopped running, just watching the scene unfold from where they were. John was still racing with the gurney. The EMTs were giving him funny looks. John looked at his mate one last time, knowing they were seconds away from parting. He leaned down and kissed both of Paul’s eye lids, and they fluttered open. “John,” he whispered, his voice was scratchy.   
“We missed the concert,” John replied thickly.   
“No,” he groaned, “Let’s go back.”  
“We will,” John promised, “Soon, okay, but right now you have to concentrate on getting better.”  
“Where am I?” Paul asked, finally noticing his surroundings. The stretcher stopped in front of a door, and the EMTs were quickly talking to doctors. They left them outside of the door for a minute. Just one minute. John knew this because one EMT had given him the one minute signal. He kept both hands in his best mate’s.   
“My love, you’re in a hospital.” Paul’s eyes widened. he tried to push himself up, but John pushed him down without letting go of Paul’s hands.   
“I…I…I hate hospitals,” he replied softly. John kissed his cheek.   
“I know,” he looked at the EMT giving him a warning look, and then back down at Paul. “But, I’ll keep you safe.” He looked back up, and then back down, wanting to get one really good look at the boy who changed his life. “I promise.”   
“Promise?” and John shook his head, holding back the tears. he let go of Paul’s hands, and the EMT pulled him into the room shutting the door in front of John’s face. He fell to his knees, sobbing harder than he’s done in years. George and Ringo rushed over to him. George rubbed his shoulder, and Ringo knelt in front of him pushing the hair out of his face. Ringo wiped away his tears, but they kept coming anyway like a low setting of a faucet, just a thin endless stream down his red soft cheeks.   
“He’s fine, he’s fine,” Ringo kept saying. George stood there, crying silently and still stroking John’s shoulder. He had nothing to say, so he said nothing.  
Brian, Mal, and Neil rushed over to them. “Boys, boys,” Brian’s professional demeanor was starting to collapse as he saw the boys he cared so deeply about—more deeply than he’d felt for any boys in his life (which was saying something)—collapsing emotionally as well. He was going to say something reassuring at first, and then profound, but he finally settled on kneeling down next to Ringo and looking into John’s eyes, lifting his chin so he was looking at him. “John…” he looked down and then back up at John, “Johnny boy,” John sort of smiled, and Brian smiled back, “He loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah.” And John fell lower, all the way to the floor, sobbing.   
“See what I told you,” Mal said absently, “As soon as it…sunk in,” sadness started to grow in his voice. He looked at Neil. “I don’t think they could’ve done it without him.”  
“No…I didn’t think so, either.”  
George held John’s head in his arms as he sobbed, George’s sobs were growing louder, and Ringo finally let himself cry. He stroked John’s hair, and whispered, “It could be worse.”  
“How?” John demanded.  
“He could be hurt. We could know that it’s something serious.”  
“But, it could be,” John retorted.  
“But, it might not be.”  
“Might being the key word here,” John debated.   
“Could being the key word here also,” Ringo emphasized. They were both silent for a while. Everyone was. There was so much they each had to do, and yet none of them made a move to do it. none of them even thought about it. the fact that they left a stadium with thousands of people in it didn’t cross their mind. They just waited.  
Eventually, they moved into a private waiting area, while Paul got tests done. “What kind of tests?” John demanded from Brian.   
“All different kinds of tests. Scans, X-rays, blood tests—“  
“Blood tests! They’re taking blood from him!” He exclaimed. Brian put a hand on his shoulder.  
“Not a lot. Don’t worry,” he concluded. “Now can I expect you to not worry about every little thing?” John glared at him. “Can I?” He demanded. John finally sighed and gave in.


	4. The Truth Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the truth starts to unravel about Paul's condition

It wasn’t until the next morning that they got anything close to an answer. A doctor came out, Dr. Glencose, and told them, “He’s alright for now. We’ve stabilized his fever, so he should be feeling a lot better now.”  
“Can we see him?” John demanded.  
“Not yet,” Dr. Glencose answered. John was disappointed, and he slumped lower in his chair. “I need to talk to all of you first…and then you can see him.” they all followed her to her office. The only ones who didn’t were Mal and Neil, who chose to stay out of it. “The good news is that we’ve located the problem, and we know how to fix it.”  
“Great! Let’s do it!” John exclaimed. “So, what do you go to do? keep him in here for a week and give him antibiotics like Rings did.”  
“Actually, it’s not that simple,” she answered. she pulled out a file and went through some papers. “You see the problem is that he has an infection that is attacking his white blood cells. It’s not permanent, but it is getting him very sick, and making it impossible for him to fight off any other infections at the moment,” she explained with no convictions in her voice. John was stunned. He didn’t think whatever it was would be that bad. he had been scared and upset in the beginning, because of all the uncertainty, but after everyone had been telling him that he was doing really well he had started to believe it. he had set himself up for false hope.   
“So, what do we do?” Brian asked quietly, when no one else was saying anything. Brian, himself, was stunned. He feared anything happening to someone so delicate like Paul. He felt protective over Paul, because that was his job in a way. he felt a horrible pain in his chest just thinking about something happening to him.   
“Well, you have options. We can keep giving him antibiotics and help boost his immune system as much as possible, but it won’t cure the problem. The infection is in his bone marrow, and I’m afraid that if he is ever to get well again then he will need a transplant, and then he’ll be on the road to recovery,” she informed.   
“Where are you going to get bone marrow?” Ringo asked.   
“I know you don’t have family members here now, but if you can phone them and have them get tested and if they’re a match, then they can fly here for a transplant, and if not then…we’ll just have to keep searching for matches.”  
“How long after they get tested will we know?” George asked.   
“A few days. It depends. It’s happening overseas, so I won’t be overseeing it,” she answered. John was dissatisfied with that answer, letting out an annoyed sigh. “But, for now, antibiotics can keep him healthy enough.”  
“Healthy enough for what?” John asked a little confused, but mostly concerned.   
“Just healthy enough,” she answered trying to sound reassuring. He wasn’t reassured.  
“Can we see him?” and she nodded, and John ran out of the office and down the hall to Paul’s room.   
He was sleeping, hugging a teddy bear that a fan sent him. John sat on the edge of his bed rubbing his back. “Paulie, I’m here,” he whispered tearfully, kissing his lips tenderly. Paul looked so fragile lying there in his hospital gown. He was pale and even in his sleep he looked cold. John wrapped him in a blanket sitting on a chair. He tucked himself under this blanket and snuggled up against his best friend. “I love you.” He kissed his nose, that had a breathing tube stuck in it. a hand touched his lips in concern. “Oh, my baby, what happened to you?”


	5. Pressing the Issue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys decide how they're going to deal with the press.

“The Beatle, Paul McCartney was rushed to a Kansas City hospital last night after he collapsed before a show. The reports are that he had collapsed due to a high fever. He is still in the hospital’s care, and there is no word on when he’ll be released.” A news reporter droned on about on a TV in Paul’s room.   
“They don’t know yet,” Ringo commented.   
“That’s sad,” George replied. “I wonder how they’ll react when they find out?”  
“Are you kidding?” Ringo asked, sitting up. “They’re going to freak! I’m actually frightened of their reaction. People will get hurt.”  
“Why? He’s going to be fine anyway,” John argued.   
“They don’t know that,” Ringo debated.  
“Well, then tell them,” John answered like it was obvious.   
“We would…if we knew that,” George interjected grimly. John just glared at him, and then spun around facing the wall of machines attached to Paul. they had been camped out in his room for hours, and Paul still hasn’t woken up. the doctors say it’s because he’s under such heavy medication, but they all secretly fear it’s deeper than that. though, they tried to act normal anyway.  
“Why don’t we just watch Gilligan’s Island,” Ringo interrupted, switching the TV channel. Brian came in and switched off the TV.  
“Hey!” They all exclaimed.  
“I need to talk to you boys.” They all leaned in closer. “The fans aren’t taking it well. There are reports that they are inconsolable over at the fan club headquarters, and that they keep getting letters and phone calls of girls just crying. Also, parents are calling to complain that their children refuse to go to school until they let Paul out of the hospital.”  
“It’s only because they care,” John said in their defense.  
“I understand why they are doing it, but the problem is how are we going to fix this.”  
“Do you want to hire a fake Paul impersonator and have him lip sync songs for the remainder of the tour, and then goes in hiding for a while,” Ringo replied sarcastically. Brian snapped his fingers like it was a good idea, then he shook it off.  
“No, nothing like that. I think…if they saw you guys…and you reassured them that you were at least handling it well, then they can be relieved of a little bit of tension,” he answered.  
“You mean just talk to the press about is what is going on?” John asked. “But, how much do you want us to say?”  
“I think…you should just tell them.”  
“If they think…that he’s just in here because he has a high fever, and they are acting like that. how are they going to react when they find out how sick he actually is?” George replied. Brian put his head in his hands in frustrations.  
“I know, I know!” He yelled, the stress was clearly getting to him. no longer taking the form of fantasies of cutting the boys long hair. “I don’t know what to do, really. Neil thinks you should finish the tour—“  
“No!” They all said at once.  
“And, I agree. I think we should finish it after Paul gets better.”  
“Obviously,” John agreed. George and Ringo nodded.  
“And, the fans aren’t upset about that, so we can put that aside for now, but that does bring up the question…would it be better if they do at least have you guys.”  
“We said we’d talk to the press. What more is there?” John responded.  
“Yeah, I mean, what can we really do in Kansas City,” Ringo added. George nodded in agreement. Brian was looking at them, they looked so naïve and innocent. He didn’t want to have to break it to them.   
“I think…it would be best if your lives, and therefore our lives, didn’t stop.”  
“What does that mean?” John demanded. He was truly lost now.   
“I mean, I don’t think that for however long he’ll be here that we should be sitting in a hospital in Kansas. You have families. John, in particular. You’re supposed to start recording the next record next month, and then shooting the next movie the month following. Are we supposed to push back a schedule we’ve had set for months for this?”  
“Yes!” They all exclaimed.  
“Are you nuts? Record an album without Paul?” John yelled.  
“That is really messed up,” George agreed.  
“I agree, it is really wrong. I mean, what do we do? replace him,” Ringo added. Brian just stared at all of them. the weight of what he was saying started to sink in. they couldn’t imagine replacing him, especially not for that long. With Ringo it was different when they replaced him. that was nine days and not that many shows. They knew it was going to be a very short period, and they didn’t record without him. not a whole album. One or two sessions, maybe, but not the whole thing. And…the movie, that was a whole different thing. How could they replace him for that? they couldn’t fathom any of it, and they didn’t want to. they didn’t want to be the Beatles if Paul wasn’t a part of it.   
“Boys…I know how strongly you feel about this. It was a fight to replace Ringo and that was only nine days, but you did it. you didn’t like it, but you did it, and that’s what’s important. You have to pull together that kind of togetherness and selflessness again.” John just shook his head.  
“You want us…to leave him in the middle of Kansas while we fly off and be ‘us’ with some guy or whatever who we don’t know, and pretend like everything is normal,” John retorted in more of a shock than anger, “You not only want us to finish out the tour without him—which is starting to sound more reasonable compared to everything else—but you want us to record an album, that he wrote half of, without him. while he is here, in this hospital, in who knows what kind of a state. I…I…” John was losing the ability to speak, “I can’t leave him. I told you before that I can’t.” he was fighting the tears in his eyes. “God forbid something happens and we’re not here.” Then, realization filled his eyes. He knew then how bad his lover really was. And, he stormed out of the room. George and Ringo following after him. Brian hesitated, looking back at Paul for the first time, and then ran after them. he finally caught up with the remaining three in a closet. He knelt down in front of John.   
“Boys, out,” he commanded. John watched them go. he sighed and said, “I guess the Beatles are going on a brief hiatus.” A grin spread across John’s face and he hugged Brian tightly. “I never really wanted to do it without Paul.”


	6. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is short but i promise the next one will be longer

The boys settled back into Paul’s bedroom where they spent the rest of the night and into the early morning. Mal and Neil came in with breakfast for everyone, and George was so 

grateful. They all sat around eating and chatting lightly, and there was a sense of normalcy in the room. For them, it felt like any other morning. At least, for a short time. Paul’s 

banter was quickly missed, and the room went quiet. John was stationed next to Paul under his blanket. He figured out that a fan had sent it to him. according to Brian, everything 

that is sent is sterilized, including the piles of cards and letters in the corners of the room. Every hour a nurse comes in with a mail bag and adds it to the pile. Occasionally someone 

will open up some of the cards and read through them. 

“People are kind,” George murmured, reading one. He stuffed it back in a mail bag and laid out sideways on Paul’s bed. He stared up at the bland white ceiling tiles. Then, he got an 

 

idea. He told Ringo to go to a supply closet and get string, and he started going through all of the mail bags himself. 

Over the course of the early afternoon, three of the Beatles hung up all of the cards by strings on the ceiling. They were proud of their work. Brian commented, “I think he’ll like it.” 

he patted them on the shoulder. 

 

But, through the late afternoon, the boys grew bored. They were tired of TV—something they never thought they could be—and had completely ran out of things to do. 

 

“Do you want to take a walk?” Ringo asked. They were all lying on Paul’s bed in different directions. Their heads touch. 

 

“No,” George and John answered together.

 

“Do you want to go get food?” George tried.

 

“We just got food,” Ringo countered.

 

“We could cause mischief,” John suggested. 

 

“Not in the mood,” George responded. They all let out a heavy sigh. 

 

“What are we going to do over the next…however long?” Ringo asked.

 

“It’ll be better when Paul’s awake,” John answered. Ringo and George agreed.


	7. We're Trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul wakes up and the boys try to be cheerful for him.

Late that night, after everyone else fell asleep, John lied awake next to Paul, his hand in his, holding tightly. He brushed the hair out of Paul’s face. “Paul, if you can hear me, wherever 

you are, just know that you are so loved…particularly by me. especially me.” he kissed his nose, and Paul’s nose crinkled, and then his eyes fluttered open. A smile spread across 

John’s face. “Finally,” he whispered.

“John,” Paul replied softly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Macca,” he replied in a smooth voice. 

“Where…where did I go?” He asked. 

“You’ve been asleep. The medicine they put you on was so strong that you’ve just been sleeping for over twenty-four hours,” he explained.

“Oh.” He looked down, and then back up at John. “Are we still in…where are we?”

“Kansas City.” Paul chuckled. “What?” John asked, bemused.

“Couldn’t I have gotten stuck someplace good?” And John laughed along with him. then, he got sad after he remembered…

“Do you know why you’re here?” And, Paul nodded. John bit his lip. “But, don’t worry. Brian phoned your dad, and he’s going to see if he’s a match, and they’re also seeing if Mike 

is.”

“And…if he is, then he’ll have to come here?” Paul asked, and John nodded, “And, he’ll have to get surgery, and…so will I.” John nodded, and Paul pulled him in an embrace. “I 

don’t want that.”

 

“I know,” John replied. “I don’t want that for you either, but we have no other choice.” Tears filled his eyes, but he hid them in Paul’s shoulder. Paul bit his lip. 

“I hate this,” he whispered.

“I know,” he agreed, “So, do I.” 

In the morning, everyone was happy that Paul was awake. Everyone was being really happy and animated, but John was sitting quietly next to him, hoping to have some privacy 

again. 

“I like the cards. Whose idea was it?” Paul commented. Ringo and John pointed to George, who blushed. Paul hugged him. “I love it. thank you.” 

The first day Paul was awake, everyone kept it light. They didn’t really talk about important things. Mostly, they discussed Kansas, and their hatred for it. they all wanted to escape 

so badly from the corn wasteland. At one point, John commented, “Why the fuck did Dorothy want to come back here so badly. I would’ve stayed in Oz.” Everyone agreed, and no 

one more than Paul. 

“It’s going to get warmer, though,” Brian told everybody. “Soon enough.” 

Paul fell asleep long before everyone else, and he did it to the sound of everyone chatting about Bonanza. “I never knew you guys were this passionate about it,” he said with a 

yawn as he fell asleep.


	8. No Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get bad news.

For days, things stayed that way. no one was serious. They all acted like they were just stuck in some hotel where there was one bed, and it belonged to Paul. everyone else was 

stuck in chairs around it. except for John who had a permanent place next to Paul on his bed. George and Ringo sat at the end of it like puppies, just sort of waiting. Everyone 

acted happy, but no one was. Everyone was worried all the time, the situation hanging over their heads like rain cloud. Though, they tried to keep it at bay by talking constantly. It 

was hard to dwell when constantly in conversation. 

 

One day, Mal pulled John, George, and Ringo out of their room. He took them on a walk through the hospital, and he didn’t say a word the whole time. When he was one the other 

end, overlooking the lobby of the hospital, he said, “He’s not making progress. In fact, he’s getting worse.” His big eyes were filled with tears. he covered his face with his hand, 

removing his glasses. Everyone was too stunned to even react. They just stood there looking out at the lobby, all of the people coming in and out. they could see some of the fans 

and press through the doors. All this time…they thought that Paul was just resting up. any moment now they’ll announce that he has his strength back and he’ll be able to finish 

the tour, but now they knew the tour would be finish. Sunny California will always just be a dream they had, a vision in their heads of white sandy beaches, and blue water 

pounding against the shore. People would be surfing and they would watch them in admiration, and maybe learn themselves. Brian would film them from the shore as they 

attempted to ride the waves. They’d fail miserably at first, but eventually one of them would get the hang of it. that person would brag about it endlessly, and the others would be 

so agitated that they’d get it instantly. They’d surf for hours. Eventually, as the sun was setting, they’d lay out on the sand looking up at the sun, and would just be happy. the 

yellow light of the sunset dimming and becoming more orange. Until it would just fade to black, and they’d close their eyes, the stars being the last thing they see. 

 

They looked out at the fans standing there. the fans that have always been there, and they felt such sympathy for them. so much so, that they couldn’t dare think of themselves. 

They could only think of the millions of people that made their lives possible. They had to think of what they would say to them. emotionally, they wouldn’t be able to take it. 

they’d all probably go mad. They’d all need counseling, severely. 

 

But, most importantly, the boys thought of half of that album that Paul wrote, and how it would go unrecorded. Even though, it was fine work, and they loved it a lot. They had 

been excited to do it…now it will forever just hang there in the studio, waiting. 

 

So, they stood there, and waited for Mal to say something else. He instead just pulled them into a hug. He didn’t let go for a while. Then, he asked if they wanted him to stay with 

them, and they told him that he should probably be alone. He walked away leaving the remaining Beatles to look over the railing at the lobby. Then, John, out of nowhere, just 

guffawed. He was absolutely hysterical, as if he just heard the best joke ever. George and Ringo just stared at him, and then kind of laughed with him, but not as hard. Then, John 

stopped dead, and puked over the railing looking down at the lobby full of people. 

………

 

George and Ringo pulled him into an empty hospital room, where he seemed like he was either going to either cry or puke. He had a very sick expression on his face, and they had 

no idea what to do about it. “Paul…Paul…” he kept saying over and over again. “My baby, I want him to be okay.” George got him a drink of water, and Ringo petted his hair. 

“Rest here for now,” he was saying. 

“Get me something…something strong.”

“Do you want us to go and get you some whiskey?” George asked, and John shook his head.

“We’re in a hospital…get me something stronger,” and Ringo and George immediately covered his mouth. Beyond pot the boys did not do drugs. They were doing their best to 

stay away from drugs. 

“No…no, no you can’t,” Ringo denied him. “You have to just cope on your own.”

“I need morphine. There’s no way I can live like this.” 

“Get…a…doctor,” George mouthed, and Ringo nodded.

“We’re going to get you some,” Ringo told him, covering his mouth again. He rushed out of the room to get a doctor. George watched him lying there, writhing in physical pain. 

Then he just stopped and looked at George with big, fearful eyes. 

“I’m…going to have to live in a world without Paul,” it was the first thing he said since Mal told them that sounded rational. He had come out of his mad state, and reality was 

setting in fully. His whole body was shaking, and George was trying not to cry himself. he reached out and cupped George’s young face. “Georgie, don’t…don’t…no…no…it’s 

okay…stop…stop…stop…” he kept saying it. Ringo came in with a doctor that had a huge syringe. 

“He will feel nothing,” the doctor told Ringo. John stroked George’s face. 

“I loved him, you know. I really did.” he saluted as the doctor filled his bloodstream with morphine. Exactly what he wanted, and he fell asleep peacefully.

George stayed with him. he found it hard to leave him. Ringo went back to Paul’s room. When he got there Paul asked where John and George were.

“John…he fell asleep in a room somewhere. He’s just exhausted after everything,” Ringo lied.

“Oh, well…when he wakes up, can you give him this?” He pulled out his Hoffner bass. It was his prized possession. The guitar that he had always used from when he was a 

teenager. 

“Your base? Why are you giving this away? it’s yours. Come on, you need it,” Ringo insisted. 

“I just…I want him to hold onto it. keep it safe…for now,” he replied. Ringo bit his lip and nodded, the tears were threatening to spill over. He turned around, because he didn’t 

want Paul to see him cry. He held the bass close to his chest, and shaking, he left the room. 

He found George and John sleeping next to each other, and laid the guitar next to John, squeezing next to George, and falling asleep.


	9. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys plan for the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, before you read this chapter, go and read the ending of the last chapter again, because i added stuff. it won't affect this chapter too much if you don't, but it will help the overall experience of this fic, so please check that out first. thank you for reading, and there's more coming soon.

The boys were told by Brian to act like everything was normal, but they knew it was hard. They just had to sit on the edge of Paul’s bed like normal, and talk to him like before. They 

tried to talk about women. The women on TV, in the hospital, and the women that they’ve seen on tour so far. They try to avoid talking about anything that’ll make Paul unhappy. 

“Puppies, you like puppies, right?” John said at one point. 

“Guys…I know what you’re doing right now.” 

“What…what are we doing?” John asked, his voice shaking.

“I know I’m going to die,” Paul answered. They held onto their composure, even though they wanted desperately to just let it go. they knew they had to reassure him.

“Well, yeah, you’re going to die. We all are! It’s a part of life,” John insisted, trying to sound happy. his eyes held all of the pain that he was feeling, but the rest of his face didn’t. no 

one knew he could act this well.

“No, I mean now, from this. you are all going to die, of course. But a long, long time from now.” He was crying, but not hard. He choked out sobs, as he started to cry harder and 

harder. They comforted him, losing their own composure. Together, they cried. they never all cried together, and for a second, they thought it was nice. They opened up a bond 

that they never had before, and each member needed that then. They needed to know that no matter what they still had that bond. They held onto each other tightly, and wept 

into each other’s shoulders.

For a long time they stayed like that, and when the sobs went down they just stayed holding each other. No one spoke for hours. They just sat there thinking. They thought about 

the future and how they’d cope, but they also thought about the memories they shared and the bond they had. Finally, Paul spoke, “I don’t want the Beatles to stop.”

“No, we can’t do it without you,” John said. Paul shook his head.

“You have to. please, for me, I don’t want it to end just because of me. keep playing, okay. it’s what makes you guys happy and I don’t want to take that away.” he sounded like he 

might cry again. He shook his head. “I can’t possibly accept that.” John kissed his head, his arm firmly around him. 

“We’re going to make you proud, I swear,” he said. Paul smiled, he actually did. 

“Please do,” he pleaded, and then he fell asleep in their arms. John and George laid him gently on his pillow, and kept their arms around him. Ringo crawled up to him, and put his 

arms around John and George again. 

“I love you guys,” George whispered.

“I love you, too,” Ringo and John said together, and they all fell asleep.


	10. Hope Gaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are brought down and then back up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is so short. i promise the next one will be slightly longer

The following day, Paul stayed asleep most of the morning. Brian came in and woke the other boys up. “I need to talk to you lads,” he said. He looked at Paul and continued, “In 

private.” They reluctantly let go and went out to the hallway to talk to Brian. 

“What’s going on?” Ringo asked, worry slipping into his voice.

“Jim and Mike’s bone marrow results came back,” he began. Everyone got really hopeful, but they could see the look on Brian’s face, and their hope vanished. “They weren’t 

matches.” He sounded so broken. they hugged him. “We have to start thinking about how things are going to be like…after.” A choking sobbing sound came out of John’s throat. 

“Wait! is there anyone else that can give their bone marrow?” John asked. Brian shrugged.

“Of course, but we don’t know how long it’s going to take to find it, and he needs it now.” John bit his lip, holding back tears. tears were already in Ringo and George’s eyes. 

“What if I was a match?” John asked. Ringo and George looked at him with wide eyes. 

“You can get tested. It’s not much. just a small blood sample. Nothing you can’t handle, but if you’re actually a match you do realize what you’re going to have to go through?” 

Brian responded. 

“I’d do anything if it meant saving him. it’s a small price to pay, really,” John answered immediately. Brian nodded, smiling, and hugged him.

“I’ll talk to Dr. Glencose,” he replied and walked down the hallway.

“You’re actually going to do it?” Ringo asked in shock. John nodded.

“I don’t see why not,” he answered proudly. George and Ringo exchanged a worried look.


	11. Is There Any Other Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John takes a minor risk to help Paul.

That afternoon, John sat in a doctor’s office across the hospital from Paul. a nurse prepped him, while George, Ringo, and Brian stood worriedly by.   
“Don’t look like that. you’re making me nervous,” John told them.   
“John, are you sure about this? you hate needles,” George said. John shrugged. He knew it’d be worth it no matter how bad it was. Brian patted his shoulder.

“Be brave, son,” he said. John forced a smile. The nurse punctured his skin with the needle and he bit his lip, but tried to act tough about it. the pain was minimal and it was over 

fast, and when it was he was relieved. Brian, George, and Ringo leaned over him. 

“You okay?” George asked, and he nodded. All three smiled.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Ringo said. John shrugged. 

“We don’t even know if it’ll be a match or not, so…let’s not make a big deal about it,” John said getting up and leaving the room. 

He headed over to Paul’s room. He was disappointed to find him awake. He had hoped he’d be asleep, so he wouldn’t notice he was gone. 

“Where’d you guys go?” Paul asked, reading a magazine. John laid down next to him. 

“Went for a walk,” he answered. “They wanted to get some food, but I wasn’t hungry,” he lied. He put an arm around Paul.

“Did ya get hurt or something?” he asked, indicating the small Band-Aid on his arm. 

“It’s nothing,” John countered, brushing it off. he kissed Paul’s ear. 

“Well, I’m starting to feel bad.”

“Why?”

“You’ve been stuck in this hospital for days. Don’t you want to leave?”

“Of course I would love to take off from this place, but I’m not going to do it without you.”

“But, Johnny, aren’t you suffering being here? I mean, it can’t be easy watching this.”

“It doesn’t matter, Paul,” he replied gently, “I’ll never leave you. In fact, I don’t think I can leave you.” He kissed him softly. Paul’s lips were dry but he didn’t care. “I’ll do anything 

for you, anything, even if it hurts.” He thought about the strong possibility that he could have surgery and he cringed. “But, I’d do it, really,” he insisted. 

“Am I worth it?” 

“When did you get so insecure?”

“The moment I became a burden to everyone around me.”

“You’re not a burden, Paul. is this difficult? Yeah. But it’s something that we all have to go through now—for some fucked up reason—we all have to stay here and comfort you for 

however long it takes, but I can assure you, it’s not a burden, just a mild inconvenience.” Paul smiled.


	12. Borrowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and John discuss the future.

John slithered in next to him on the bed and for a while they just laid there, watching TV. 

“I heard fans have skipped school for these past five days.”

“I feel bad,” he answered weakly. “They must be so upset.”

“I know,” he agreed. 

“What’s Brian telling them?” Paul inquired. 

“What do you mean?” John asked innocently.

“He couldn’t possibly have told them I’m dying. The reaction would be a lot worse,” Paul continued. John turned Paul’s face so he was facing him.

“Listen to me, Paul McCartney. You are not dying, alright. we are going to find you a donor and soon. You will get out of this hospital, and even better, out of Kansas. I made a 

promise to you, and I intend to keep it,” John told him with fervor. 

“I’m dying, I know I am John. I hear what the doctors are saying. What you guys are saying. Sometimes I act like I’m asleep just to hear the truth, you know. and, I know it’s true, 

Johnny, please believe me,” he insisted, his lip quivering. 

“Why do you want it to be true?” John demanded. 

“I don’t!” He screamed sitting up. he started sobbing in his lap. John tried to hug him, but he slapped him away. “Just…stop acting like it! I know I am, but don’t treat me like I’m 

fragile. But don’t act like everything is normal and this is just some weird stop on tour.” John shook his head.

“Paul…I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“I…I don’t either. I’m just really unhappy, and I don’t want to be, you know. all I want is to be happy in the end.” John pondered that for a second. Then he picked up Paul’s Hoffner 

and handed it to him. “I gave this to you.”

“And, I’m lending it to you.” He picked up his Rickenbacker and he started to strum. It was an old song from their youth, I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You, by Elvis Presley. Paul 

played with him, and both feared it’d be the last time they ever played together. 

Days before they could barely look at each other, and now they couldn’t stop. Smiling they played song after song together, staring into each other’s eyes. They played songs off 

the radio, songs off of their albums, and songs that they remembered from years before. When Paul got tired he handed his Hoffner to him. John put down his Rickenbacker, and 

played Paul’s bass. He played him a song he originally wrote for his wife. Paul fell asleep to John singing, “I wish I could kiss the lips that I’m missing. I send all my loving to you.” 

He kissed his head, and fell asleep beside him.


	13. What I Must Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John pledges to be Paul's savior.

“Surgery?!” George and Ringo exclaimed the next day. 

“Are you sure you can handle it?” George asked, and John nodded.

“I’m fine! Rings just did it a couple months ago, so…why can’t I?”

“Because…” George couldn’t think of a reason.

“Brian says that it’s a very minor surgery. They only have to take some cells out of my hip bones and then I’m good. No risk on my part.”

“So, no pain then?” Ringo asked, and John nodded.

“I’ll be under. I’ll be fine,” he sounded like he was trying to reassure himself more than them. he was really scared, but he was willing to push that all aside for Paul. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” George asked wearily. 

“I’m fine. Besides, who else can do it?”

“Well, Brian said a bunch of people are trying to see if they are matches for Paul. someone is bound to be. So, the burden isn’t on you,” Ringo said. 

“I want it to be. I’d rather do it then some stranger.” 

“Did you ever think that maybe the reason you’re doing this is because you want to be the one that saves Paul?” George asked.

“I do want to save Paul, but because I want him to be saved. I want him to be okay, and I can do it. plus, it’ll be faster this way, because they already know I’m a match rather than 

waiting more time, plus I’m already set to go. it’s just quicker this way is all. Also, I think Paul would feel more comfortable coming from me than from some stranger, right?”

“And, you want to be the one that saves Paul,” Ringo added. John rolled his eyes.

“So, what! I made him a promise, and I intend to keep it.” He stormed away from them, and they grabbed him and spun him around. 

“You aren’t storming away from us again. We are staying together,” Ringo said with fervor.

George, Ringo, and John talked about the situation more, and they were eventually convinced—with the help of Dr. Glencose—that John is the right person to do it.

“Are you sure he’ll be alright?” George whispered to Dr. Glencose later. 

“Of course,” she answered, “It’s not that serious. He’ll be out in about an hour,” she answered. “It’s really nothing to fret about.”

“But…” George sighed, “I just don’t want another friend…” She nodded in understanding. She patted his shoulder.

“He’ll be just fine.”


	14. Trying to Have Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and John talk about upcoming events.

John and Paul lied together the night before John’s surgery. Brian crept in the room and Paul pretended to be asleep. 

“John, I want to talk to about what’s going on.”

“I already know the gist. You don’t have to go over it again.”

“No, I mean,” he sighed, “I just am so proud of you for doing this. it’s really brave, you know.” John shrugged.

“Nah, it’s nothing.”

“No, it really is. you should be proud of yourself,” he continued.

“Well…yeah.” Brian patted him on the shoulder and looked at him for a while. Then, he hugged him and kissed his head a bunch of times. 

“You guys are really like my kid brothers. So you better not get hurt in there. got it?” John nodded, slightly afraid of Brian’s tone, and then he lightened up a bit. 

“I love you.”

“Love you too.” He paused, “Thanks for everything, you know. making us famous and all.”

“Oh, that. that was nothing.” Then, he chuckled leaving the room. Paul opened one eye. 

“Johnny.”

“Hm?”

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“It’s an hour.”

“No, but you have to go in for prep, and then it’s the hour, and then you have to spend the night apart.”

“The whole night!” John exclaimed. No one told him it would be a whole night. He hadn’t spent a night without Paul since Paris. “I…I guess I’ll just have to cope, and you’ll have to 

cope with sleeping with George for a night—or Rings. Whoever you prefer.”

“Nah, if you’re sleeping alone, then I will too.”

“Are you sure?” Paul nodded. 

“Now, onto important business,” Paul continued. “You are going under tomorrow, and I hope you realize how scary that is.”

“Fully. After everyone has told me thousands of times.” Paul smiled.

“I want to tell you how much I love you.” 

“I love you too, Paulie,” John replied. they hugged. Then, they pulled away so their faces were inches away from each other. They leaned in, and kissed. “I'll always be yours,” he 

moaned against his lips. 

“And, you'll be mine,” Paul answered. John held him close, and they stopped kissing, and just lied together. Their hands were intertwined. They were so happy in that moment.


	15. This Has To Be Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John makes his donation.

The next day, Paul shook John awake.

“No, I don’t want to go on the Ed Sullivan Show,” he muttered. Paul giggled, and shook him again. 

“It’s time to go, love,” Paul sang. John’s eyes opened and he looked at Paul sleepily. 

“I want to say something profound, but I’ve got nothing.”

“How about…how happy you’ve made me. how I can’t imagine a world where you don’t exist. That meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to you,” Paul lamented. John 

looked down at the sheets and then up at him. 

“You read my mind,” he answered. they kissed passionately. 

“Good luck, okay.” John nodded. 

“Now, I as your donor I ask one more favor from you.”

“Anything.”

“When I’m in there…and they are slicing me up like lunch meat. I want you to be completely calm. No crying. Just peace.” Paul nodded, but knew he wouldn’t keep his promise. 

They kissed three more times before John left Paul’s room, and George, Ringo, Mal, and Brian were in the hallway waiting for him. they all group hugged and then walked him 

across the hospital to his room. A nurse got him settled, and then Dr. Glencose came in. 

“Ready?” She asked. he looked at his friends. Brian kissed his head one last time. George and Ringo both hugged him and kissed his cheeks. 

“It’s not so bad, you know. you won’t mind it much,” Ringo told him. George looked weary. John shrugged. They left, and it was just him and Dr. Glencose. 

“Now are you ready?” And John nodded. 

“Just one thing. Um…if something goes wrong…can you tell Paul that the Rickenbacker is his?” She nodded, and put something into his IV, and he lost consciousness.

Paul lied in his bed thinking about John, and he tried to keep his promise but the tears did fall to his sheets. He knew then that he would never meet someone as incredible as 

John. 

……………

When John woke up, he immediately wanted to see Paul, but he got George and Ringo instead.

“Hey! They said that you did awesome, and that you should be able to leave this room in the morning!” Ringo explained happily. John smiled.

“Can it be sooner?”

“No, whenever you have surgery you have to stay the night. You’re lucky it’s not longer.” John shrugged, still missing Paul. 

“Does he know?”

“What? That you made it out fine? Yeah, he’s known,” Ringo answered. John sighed, bored already. He wanted to go back to his love soon.


	16. Trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul both attempt to do something impossible.

After George and Ringo fell asleep, John started kissing Paul repeatedly. 

“I missed you so much,” he whispered. He caressed his face. “Oh sweetie, I missed this face.” He kissed him again. 

“John,” Paul began, his voice strong, “There’s something else I missed.” John looked at him in confusion. Paul took John’s hand away from his face and slid it down Paul’s dressing 

gown but stopped when he reached his waist. “Only if you’re okay with this.”

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” John replied, pulling away. 

“Please, John, this could be the last time—“

“It won’t be!” he retorted, his voice fiery. “I promise, when you get out of here, we will do everything that you want. For days on end. But right now,” he sighed and pressed Paul’s 

hand to his chest, “this is as far as it’s going to get.” Paul nodded. 

“Fine, but if something does happen, and lose me—“

“I’ll never lose you. It won’t happen. I won’t let it happen.”

“You’ve done all that you could.” John looked at him incredulously. 

“You really think that’s everything.”

“John, you gave me part of your bones. What more do you think you can do?” John looked away, his lip a hard line. 

“It should be enough, but if it’s not I will give you more. It wasn’t that hard, I can do it again, I can—“

“Let me go.” 

“Like it’s that simple,” John whispered. He laughed in a sick way. “It’d take so much time, and so much effort just to accept that you’re gone. You really think that I could let you 

go.”

 

“You have to think about it—“

“No I don’t!” he yelled back. Then lowered his voice, “I’m sorry, please, just listen to me. you are not going anywhere, okay? I am taking care of you—they,” he pointed to George 

and Ringo sleeping on the other end of the bed, “And them,” he pointed to Mal and Brian sleeping in chairs on the other side of the room, “They are taking care of you too.”

“Sometimes, no matter what, there’s nothing anyone can do.” His face twisted up when he said this. John closed my eyes.

“Oh my God, they told you that when she did. Didn’t they?” Paul looked away. “You poor thing.” John hugged him. “You are not going to end up like you’re mother. this is different

—very different.”

“How, John? How is this different?”

“Because you have me.”

“My mom had my dad, and he loved her more than is possible, and yet…” John looked at him in horror. He shook his head. He looked away, tears in his eyes. 

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say that you’ll let me go. That’s all I want. I want you to be okay.”

“I can’t,” he insisted through clenched teeth. 

“You need to think of a way to do it, because I don’t know how this surgery’s going to go, if I can even make it through that, or if it’ll even work, and I need to know, before I go in 

there, that you’ll be okay.”

“Would you be? If it were the other way around?” Paul bit his lip, tears in his eyes. 

“I can’t even think about that, John,” he whispered. 

“Then, imagine how I feel,” he replied, his voice rough. He rolled over and faced away from him, trying so hard to suppress the sobs in his chest, but letting the tears stream freely 

down his face. Paul did the same, except he did a worse job at hiding it.


	17. If I--Stop There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and John fight over whether or not reality is a possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update. i completely lost all inspiration for a while, and because i didn't have this part written, it was hard for me to update with school going on. but soon it will be Christmas break and I can write a lot more and update more often! so i promise there will be more chapters soon.

Just twenty-four hours before Paul's surgery, the two who previously couldn't look away from each other, could barely look the other in the eye. 

"Do you want anything?" John asked Paul distantly. The two were sitting in bed together, but there was about an inch of space between them. George and Ringo were the only other 

ones in the room. 

"Wow, I thought you guys would be all over each other right now," George continued, "All things considered..." 

"No, I still love him, and don't want anything to happen to him, and I'm sure he feels the same," John replied bitterly. 

"What happened between you two?" Ringo demanded. 

"Nothing, we're as close as ever," Paul replied flatly. George and Ringo exchanged a confused look. 

"Let's get something from the canteen," George suggested, pulling Ringo out of the room. John sighed and look away. Paul looked at him and sighed resignedly. 

"If I die tomorrow--"

"--Which you won't."

"If I die tomorrow, then I don't want you to be angry at me." 

"We'll have time to forgive each other--"

"And if we don't!" Paul yelled. "We can't argue about not arguing because you can't accept a serious possibility."

"It's not a possibility. I saved you."

"Then, you need to face the reality that that may not have been enough." The color drained from John's face. 

"You're not supposed to die, Paul," John whispered. "You're supposed to grow old and die with me, when we're eighty, and we've written our fiftieth hit. Remember, we were going 

to adopt about thirty kittens and live in a cottage in Scotland? Remember?" John's voice was filled with desperation, and so were his eyes. "Please tell me, that you believe it's going to happen."

"I wish I could. I want it as badly as you do, but I can't think about it. I can't even think about the day after tomorrow. What is it going to take to get you to believe that I could die."

"Why do you want me to believe it so badly?" he demanded, his voice fiery but breaking. 

"Because, if Brian comes to you tomorrow, with tears in his eyes and shaking hands, and he has to tell you that I'm gone, I need to know that you can keep going."

"I don't know if I want to." Paul looked at him in heartbroken fear. 

"You have to," he insisted, hyperventilating, with tears streaming down his face. "The world can't exist without John Lennon."

"I don't care about the world," he replied angrily. "I care about you; I care about us. This. Lennon/McCartney. What am I supposed to do without you?" Paul took his shoulders, 

closed his eyes, swallowed and opened them again. 

"You are going to live," he told him with all the strength he could muster. John trembled in Paul's arms, tears streaming down his face. Paul thought that he could break him if he 

held him too tightly. "You are going to remember what I told you after your mum died, and you are just going to have to try." John closed his eyes and fell into John's chest, 

holding onto him for dear life; weeping. 

"I can try," he whispered after a while.

"That's all I needed to hear." Paul stroked his hair and kissed him gently.


	18. You Can't Save 'Em All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This scene contains sexual content (finally, right?). Also warning, I don't have much experience with writing smut, so if this is a free version of 50 Shades of Grey, then I am sorry (actually, I don't think my virgin-self (both in the sexual sense and in the writing smut sense) could write worse smut then that). Additionally, if my cousin, or any of my family members, are in fact reading this, just don't. Christmas is coming up, and how are you supposed to look me in the eyes after reading the words that i wrote that include the word penis. so just read the beginning and the end and we can all have a merry Christmas. okay?

That night, after lying in bed together, kissing and trying to be happy; they lied together in his bed reminiscing. 

“Do you remember when we were in Hamburg, and we used to talk about touring America. How exciting it would be to go to random places that just feel so American. Well, now 

we’re here…does it live up?” Paul said.

“Macca, please, this is not what we had in mind.” Paul laughed. John looked at his delicate face. “Why are you so fragile?”

“I told you…I’m not fragile.”

“But, you look it. you always have, though, but now…it’s gotten worse,” John answered.

“Maybe because I am fragile,” Paul replied. John gave him a confused look. “I know I am. Just pretend I’m not. just for a little while longer.”

“A little while longer…then you’ll be fine.”

“Of course,” he replied breathlessly. “Just fine.” 

“And, then we’ll make records again. Tons of records. I’ve gotten some new ideas for songs, and I hope that you like them. I’ll play them for you when you get out of here. And 

you and me will write some stuff. Then, we’ll make that movie. That’ll be fun right? Right? Paul?” 

“I’m listening,” he responded sleepily. “And, yeah, that sounds like fun, but can I hear one now?” John grabbed his Rickenbacker and started playing a song he wrote called In My 

Life. “There are places I remember in my life. Though some have changed. Some for better some not for better. Some have gone,” he sang, and Paul was smiling. “In my life I’ve 

loved them all, but none as much as you.” When he was done he kissed Paul’s lips, which turned up into a smile. 

“Thanks, Johnny.”

“It was a lot of difficult hard work,” John responded, and Paul laughed. They kissed again, but it didn't stop there. For the first time in weeks, their kiss wasn't tender or romantic, it was hot and intense. John's tongue explored the inside of Paul's mouth. He bit his lip as he pulled away. Paul grabbed at John's shirt, ripping it open. 

"What are you doing?" John demanded.

"I could be dead in ten hours."

"Good point," John replied, and continued kissing him. John squeezed Paul's hair, letting it run through his fingers, feeling how warm it was from resting on a pillow all day. It was 

getting longer, and John liked how it took just a few seconds longer to run his fingers through the strands. He moaned in satisfaction. 

Paul slid his lips away from John, which left him a bit confused, but smiled when he realized why. Paul was kissing every inch of John's chest. John rested his forehead on the top 

of Paul's head, stroking his hair and crying a little bit. 

"I'm okay," Paul whispered, "In this moment, everything is fine."

"But it won't be," he sobbed. Paul slithered up and faced him, his face inches from John's. his lips just brushed John's cheek. 

"It doesn't matter--not this instant. It will yes, but for right now, this is all we have, and when we don't have anything, don't look back and said we could've had more." A look of 

realization washed over John's face, and then he grabbed him, heatedly and started kissing him passionately. "Why do you only want my lips?" John pulled away, grinned, and 

slithered down Paul's chest until he was facing Paul's open dressing gown. he peaked it open and bent all the way down so he could see Paul's penis. He smiled. 

"I didn't realize how much I missed you until I didn't see you for a while," he said, half-jokingly. Paul chuckled. John smiled up at him, a little sadly. 

"Don't be sad, be...horny." John laughed lightly. He looked away, pouting slightly. "Don't do that," Paul pleaded, "Please, continue." John looked up at Paul's puppy dog eyes. 

"It might not be the last time," John said to himself. He took a deep breath and continued. He closed his eyes and gently caressed the staff of Paul's erect penis. A weird sound 

came out of Paul. "Are you okay?" John asked urgently. 

"I'm fine," Paul breathed. he was hyperventilating. John sat straight up and looked at him concernedly, brushing the hair out of his face. 

"I think that's enough--"

"Don't leave me like this," Paul gasped. John reluctantly, and a little afraid, slid back down to the base of Paul's dressing gown. he peeled away the fabric again, and as gently as possible, started sucking on his penis. Paul leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He started moaning loudly and grunting. John looked up at him; afraid. 

"Don't stop!" Paul shouted. John continued. He tried to suck him off as quickly as possible; using all of his best techniques, but Paul's moans got louder and louder, until they turned to screams. Paul started to press hard on the top of John's head, as if he was leaning on him for support. Pretty soon, his sexual screams turned into screams of pain. John stopped. "You have to finish!" 

"I can't leave you like this!" he insisted. He started yelling for the nurse.

"No! They'll find out what we're doing!"

"Prioritize!" John shouted back. he ran to the door, his shirt still open, and started yelling for a doctor or a nurse. quickly a team of doctors rushed into the room. the pinned Paul 

down to the bed. a doctor shoved John out of the room. He stared at the scene in front of him with a horrified expression on his face. the door was slammed in front of his face, 

leaving him standing alone in the hallway, his love screaming for help on the other side of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that happened. Expect a new chapter pretty soon. I will try to update as soon as possible.


	19. I...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys await news about Paul.

Time had long since stopped. The hospital waiting room was empty except for George and Ringo. The only sound was a telephone ringing somewhere in another room. The two 

boys sat pressed together, George's head on Ringo's shoulder, amongst a row of empty chairs. Ringo stroked George's hair slowly, absent-mindedly, as George sat shaking, tears 

in his eyes. The only thing to break their silence was a husky voice from the doorway.

"Where is he?" They looked up to find Brian standing in the doorway, smoking a cigarette, looking drained. 

"He's in there." Ringo nodded his head toward the small sanctuary down the hall from the waiting room. Brian nodded and ran down the hall, leaving the boys behind. 

"Rings?" George suddenly called out. 

"Yes, Georgie?"

"What are we supposed to do now?"

"Wait...that's all we can do, honey. Is wait for everything to get better."

"If it doesn't?" Ringo didn't answer him. He just continued to stroke his hair. 

Down the hall, Brian was knocking on the sanctuary door. 

"Johnny, can I come in?" He asked carefully. There was no response. He knocked again. When there was no response he burst open the door and ran in. He found John sitting alone 

in the corner, his head in his knees, his shoulders shaking. Brian tiptoed over to him and knelt down in front of him. He very gently started stroking his hand. John lifted his head 

up, and Brian gave him a sympathetic look. John's face was twisted up, his eyes puffy and full of tears, and his lip quivering. 

"Is he alive?" He breathed. 

"They're taking care of him," Brian whispered, stroking his hair. John buried his head in his knees and sobbed. Brian pulled him into his arms and stroked his back. "He's here right 

now, that's all I know."

"Was he ever gone?" John cried. 

"No, he was always here," Brian answered gently. He continued to stroke his hair. John wrapped his arms around him and held onto him tightly. 

"I can't lose him," he whispered pleadingly. 

"I know, neither can I." John looked at him for a long time.

"Aren't you going to say it's all going to be okay?" John asked him bewilderedly. Brian opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. John cried harder. 

They were silent a while, rocking slightly, back and forth, John crying hard, and Brian stroking his hair. Finally, John spoke. 

"Brian, if he--" his voice broke off. 

"Yes?" Brian prompted. 

"If something happened, I want you to know that this thing," he shook his head, "I know he'd want it to keep going, but I can't," he whispered, "Not like this." he shook his head 

again, "I know it'd cost you a lot of money, but I honestly don't care." He tried to laugh but it came out as a sob. Brian brushed the hair out of his face and tried to smile 

reassuringly. 

"Do you want to know something?" John nodded, "I honestly don't care either." There shared a small smile. Then he continued with a little more fervor, "I don't think I'll have to rip 

up any contracts though." He laughed a little but John didn't.

Brian looked at him sympathetically and stroked his hair. 

"I'm really, really sorry." 

"Sorry about what?" John demanded. Brian sighed and stood up. He started pacing the room, trying to put the words together.


	20. The First Steps into Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has to deal with a tough reality and Brian is the one to break it to him.

John sat outside of Paul's room, staring at the little lump in the bed through the window pane. Tears streamed down his face.   
"It's only a few weeks--" George said to him, trying to comfort him.   
"A month, George, he's going to be in there for a whole month, and this as close as I'm going to get. There is nothing that you can say that will make this better." He banged his head against the door and sobbed. "Just when things were getting better."   
"At least the surgery worked. He's going to get better. They know that now. So, shouldn't you be happy?" John glared at him.   
"Happy? I should be happy that I am separated from my baby deer by a steel door for thirty days!" He exclaimed. He hissed obscenities under his breath. He was a lot calmer than he had been the day before, when Brian told him that he'd have to be quarantined for a whole month.   
They were in the sanctuary, after having waited there for hours. Brian didn't know if Paul had made it yet, but he knew one thing absolutely clear, Paul and John could not be together for at least a month, and he was terrified of telling John, but he knew he had to do it. By that point, Paul's condition had been stabilized, but the operation was still underway, so the chances of Paul making it were a lot higher than they were when John came running down the hospital hallway, yelling that Paul had collapsed. When Brian heard this, he knew there was a possibility that he wouldn't make it, and he'd have to let John know. So, he came up with a plan on how he'd tell him. When his condition started to stabilize, he moved into the next part of his plan. He'd have to tell him what he'd known for a while, but was waiting for the opportune moment. Well, that moment had finally come, and he had to look John in the eyes and just tell him.   
"John, you know that I love you, and whatever I do, it is to protect you." John looked fearfully at him, his hands shaking in Brian's. "When Paul makes it of this, you are going to have to spend sometime apart." John looked incredulously at him.   
"You mean, like the rest of the night?"  
"No, John, a bit longer than that."  
"How long? Because I need to see him. I have to see him or I'll go insane. Brian, I have to know that he is okay." Brian took the sides of his face and looked him in straight in the eyes.  
"I know. I know how you feel about him and I know that spending even a minute apart is hard for you, but you have to look at me, and promise me, that you will do what is best for him." John nodded.   
"Whatever it takes, I'll do it."  
"Then, you will let him heal? For as long as it takes." Brian was serious, emotionless. John was anxious, hopeful.   
"For as long as it takes," He repeated, feeling his chest tighten.  
"Okay, it's going to take a month--"   
"A month!" He had exclaimed, pushing Brian away from him. He started cursing up a storm, pushing the chairs over in the sanctuary. Brian grabbed him and pinned his hands to his sides.   
"I know you are upset, but please, calm down. You are going to have him back. Just be patient. It's going to take some time, but he needs it to heal. He can't be around any germs. He's going to be in complete isolation for a whole month." John was fuming, breathing heavily, burning tears in his eyes. The more he stared Brian down, taking in what he was saying, the slower he breathed.   
"A month?" He asked again, a little calmer. "One month, and then he's mine."  
"He'll still be in the hospital, but you'll be able to see him by then." John took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but the tears didn't go away.   
"And he's going to be fine?" He asked thickly.   
"The last I've heard, but they don't know anything for sure."   
"When we will know?" John asked him.   
"A couple of hours." John let out a groan that turned into a scream. Brian pulled him in close, soothing him. "It's okay, it's okay, he's doing so much better."   
"It's my fault," He mumbled. Brian pulled him away. "I didn't tell you before, but his heart didn't just stop. It was me, it was all me. I was a pathetic idiot, who couldn't just say no--"  
"No to what?" Brian demanded. "What did you do to him?" John looked away, biting his lip. "Just tell me what happened."   
"You'll hate me forever."  
"No I won't. There is nothing that you could've done that would make you hate me forever."   
"Oh yeah, what about killing our bass player because I was just so fucking horny." He shouted, kicking a table over. Brian tried to hug him but he evaded his embrace. "Now you know how we got here. Now you know what a fucking idiot I am. I'm so selfish and stupid and--"  
"Stop it!" Brian shouted grabbing his shoulders and shaking them. "You were not stupid or selfish. You were naive, to say the least, but that doesn't make you a bad person, and besides, he isn't dead. He never died. His heart rate dropped, it didn't stop." John looked away, his lip quivering. "He's dying and he's not dead. There's a chance that the bone marrow won't take, but that's it. What happened before, and whatever happens later, are not related to each other."  
"Aren't they, though?"  
"No. You did not kill him."  
"But I could've!"  
"Did you know that?"  
"I knew something was wrong, but he didn't want me to stop. I should've. I should've climbed off of him and let him alone."  
"And you can't change that now. So, please, let this go."  
"I can't!"  
"Try, please, for me." John's face went blank. "For him." He looked at him with hope.   
"For him, I'll stand out here," John said to George a day later, standing outside of Paul's hospital room. "I won't leave, I promise." He whispered to Paul, as if he could hear him.


	21. Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul finally communicate and Brian starts to figure out the future.

For three days, John has done nothing but sit in front of Paul's door. At first he was standing, but Brian advised him to sit down before he exhausted his leg muscles. Sometimes George sits with them, and George will chat about something light, and John will basically ignore him. Once, Ringo told him that he should try to focus on something else, and maybe go for a walk. John gave him the deadliest of stares, so Ringo let it go. Brian told the others that it was no use trying to get through to him. You can give him food, remind him to take bathroom breaks, but that's all you can really do about it. For the next month or so, this is where John is going to sit. 

However, John does get bored just sitting there. He focuses on Paul, but he can only stare at his pretty, sleeping face for so long before he needs to rest his eyes. He feels bad for wanting to get up and walk around, and chastises himself for even having the thought. So, he stays there. 

On the third day, Paul wakes up. He sees John through the little window and they wave to each other. John kisses the glass and Paul blows a kiss at him. John catches it. Paul gestures for him to come closer and John steps forward, only centimeters away from the glass. He gestures for John to put on his glasses, and then John pulls them out of his pocket. Paul holds up a ream of paper and starts writing in marker. He holds up a sign that reads, "I miss you." John rushes to get some paper and a maker as well, and when he returns he holds up a sign that says, "I miss you too." They exchange a small smile. Paul returns with, "I love you," which John returns. Then there was silence. Paul picked up his marker and scribbled, "I forgive you." John paused and then wrote slowly, "I forgive me too." Paul smiled tearfully. John looked away, tears in his eyes too. He then wrote, "I'll wait here for you." Paul frowned. John looked confused. He wrote again, "I will wait." Paul sighed and crying lightly. He shook his head and wrote, "Don't." John didn't know how to reply or even what to think, and before he could, Paul had fallen back to sleep. 

John backed away from the glass, staring at his Paul through the little window. He couldn't leave him, but if Paul didn't want him here, then why should he bother? He stormed away pushing past George and Ringo waiting at the end of the hallway. He stormed out of the hospital, stepping outside for the first time in weeks and feeling the hot sun beat down on him. He grimaced and ran through the parking lot, avoiding the press to the best of his ability. He got into a taxi and went back to their hotel. 

For two days, he sat alone in their hotel room. Mal had come to check on him, but John insisted that everything was fine. It wasn't fine. Not even close. John was worried about Paul, but he was also angry at him. He didn't understand what he did wrong. He had been there for him through the whole process, he had saved his life. He didn't see where he messed up. 

Finally, Brian came and talked to him. 

"I'm fine," he insisted, when Brian came through the door. "I just needed a break from the hospital."

"Really? Because, when I suggested you get your meals in the cafeteria instead of having us deliver them to you outside of Paul's room, you bit my head off." John sighed heavily and fell back on his bed. 

"You don't understand."

"I know, because you haven't told us anything." Brian sat down next to John. "Look, sweetie, whatever you said to Paul or he said to you, know that you love each other very much, and nothing, not even a malignant disease, can split you two up." He patted John on the back, "So what happened? Do you still feel guilty about--"

"No, it has nothing to do with that."

"Then, what? Why have you been sulking in a hotel room for days without telling anyone why?" 

"Because--" he sighed, "He doesn't want me there."

"What do you mean? Of course he does."

"No, he told me himself. I told him that I'd wait for him and he said that I shouldn't," John insisted, his voice sad. He didn't look at Brian when he said this.   
Brian sighed and turned John's head so he was facing him. 

"I think I know what's going on."

"Yeah, Paul doesn't want me around."

"No, no, no," Brian argued, "I think he wants to let you go." John looked at him skeptically. 

"Let me go?"

"John, you've been in Kansas for nearly two months. We're scheduled to start recording next week. I don't know how much longer I can put it off."

"But you said--"

"Forget what I said. John, whether we finish the tour and start the tour, or just take a break," He held John's shoulders and looked him in the eyes, "we need to go back home. "


	22. Saying It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has to bite the bullet and finally let Paul go.

John once again found himself outside Paul's door, but this time it was different. He was wrapped in a plastine cover and wearing a surgical mask and latex gloves. He took a deep breath and reached for the door, and then stopped himself.   
"You're allowed to go in," Brian reminded him. "You just can't touch him is all."  
"I'm just not ready." He turned away from the door and faced Brian. "I don't think I can tell him to his face that I have to leave him in Kansas."  
"I'll still be here," Brian reminded him. "And besides, you're not telling him anything that he doesn't want to hear."   
John sighed heavily and turned back to face the door. He could see Paul sleeping through the little window. He looked a little stronger and some of his color had come back. John was relieved that he was actually getting better. And with that, he pushed open the door and walked in. He tiptoed over to his bed and knelt down next to him.   
"Paulie," he whispered. Paul's eyes fluttered open and he smiled a little.   
"You came back," he cried. "You actually came back." He sat up and John gestured for him to lay back down.   
"We can't touch, and I can only stay for a few minutes." Paul nodded. John looked down and took deep breath. He looked into Paul's deep brown eyes and just said it. "I am going back to England. We're going to start laying tracks for the next album, and we have start meeting with Dick Lester about the new movie. I'm so sorry," he cried, "I am so, so sorry to do this to you." Paul looked at him confusedly.   
"What do you mean? It's not your fault. You shouldn't abandon what we've worked so hard to build just because I'm a little sick."  
"Okay, McCartney, you are way more than just a little sick." They laughed lightly together. John smiled tearfully at him. "I am going to miss you so much." Paul tearfully nodded.   
"I'm going to miss you too."  
"You know that no matter how long this takes, I will wait for you, okay? I'll still be here, in a way." Paul nodded.   
"I'll come back, I swear I'll come right back to you as soon as I can. We can pick up where we left off." John nodded. He wanted to hug him or hold his hand or something, but most of all he wanted to kiss him, but he knew that it'd only make him sicker, and he didn't want him to suffer any longer.   
"I could stay--"  
"No, I don't want you wasting anymore time in front of that door. Make the album, do some shows again. Please, John, please, go on. It's going to be hard, but it's so, so worth it." John begrudgingly agreed and nodded.   
"John, you have to go," the doctor said from the doorway. John turned back to Paul and he gave him his bravest face.   
"Be brave, okay?" He leaned in to kiss his forehead and the remembered. He pulled away, feeling defeated. "Goodnight, okay?" He continued reassuringly. He kept nodding, kept trying to smile, but he couldn't stop the tears from coming. There were tears in Paul's eyes and he wanted so badly to wipe them away.   
"I'll see you soon," John told him again, backing out of the room. Paul waved to him. John gave him a little wave back. Paul blew him a kiss and John almost broke, but he managed to blow him a kiss back before the door shut in front of him. He watched him through the little window, and Brian had to pull him away. As soon as he was out of view, he fell onto his knees crying. Brian comforted him.   
"It's okay, it's okay, it won't be long, I swear." John just kept shaking his head.   
"Please take care of him, please?" He pleaded. Brian nodded. He bent down so he was looking in John's eyes.   
"Now, you will promise me that you will take care of yourself." John nodded. "Okay, go on, then." He walked him out of the hospital and put him and the others in a cab. He kissed them each goodbye and waved as the car pulled away. John watched the hospital disapear behind him. George put his arm around him and held him close.  
"He'll be fine," George told him. John nodded, actually believing him for the first time.


	23. All Together Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are reunited and they remember what happiness feels like.

Back in London, weeks later, the boys sat in Abbey Road studios, their instruments in their hands. John stood at the front hovering in front of a microphone. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply.   
"John!" George Martin yelled through the speaker. John's eyes burst open.   
"I'm sorry, I was meditating," he answered softly, speaking into the microphone. George and Ringo shared a knowing look. 

"John, you can't do this every time you miss Paul--"

"Why not? It's the only thing I can do to keep sane," he demanded. 

"Because, you would be constantly meditating," George Martin pointed out. John scoffed and looked away. The producer of the biggest band in the world let out a heavy sigh.   
"Fine, just start." 

Ringo began his drum beat, and immediately after George joined in with a guitar riff. They kept going, looking at John expectantly. He just stood at the microphone, looking at his shoes. 

"John!" They shouted. He flinched. 

"What?" He demanded. 

"You missed your cue," George pointed out. 

"Well, I don't see how I can sing a duet without my partner?" He replied knowingly. 

"I told you, when he returns we will edit him in. Don't worry about it. Just sing."

"Then, edit me in later," he retorted, kicking the microphone over. He stormed out of the studio and the other two raced after him. 

He ran outside in the rain and ran across the street. 

"John!" The other two screamed as they ran after him. John spun around and faced them, and they stopped dead in the middle of the street. 

"I know what you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it. You don't understand and you will never understand!" He shouted. They stared at him in shock. George gulped and took a step forward. 

"John, please, listen to us. Paul will come back--"

"It's not that!" He shouted back. He shook his head. "If you want to go through the motions, then fine! Go back in there. Sing for them, and do what they say. Just keep going and going as if everything that we have built has been about that. All this time, I thought you understood. But clearly you only think about yourselves."

"John, I don't know what you're talking about," George replied softly. 

"I'm talking about us. This thing, it was never about music or fame or girls or proving our worth. It was always about us, our brotherhood. And doing this without Paul is abandoning the very fabric of our brotherhood. We are supposed to be together. Do this together. whatever it is, it doesn't matter, as long as we're together. But it's more than that." He turned away, hiding his tears. "The fact that you would just leave him behind--"

"You left too--"

"And that was a mistake," he hissed. He tried to suppress the sobs in his chest. They ran to him and hugged him. 

"We didn't abandon him," Ringo reassured him. 

"Yeah, we just had to go."

"And leave him there." They both looked down, shame present in their eyes. 

"Don't think that we haven't missed him desperately," Ringo replied.

"Yeah, I mean, he's my big brother. I've been torn apart without him," George added. John looked at them hopefully, his lip quivering. 

"So, what we just go on?" John asked. George and Ringo exchanged a look. 

"Maybe we can take a break, at the very least the afternoon off," George suggested, giving him a little wink. 

In a cafe, a few streets over, the boys sat around a table, silently drinking coffee together. 

Suddenly, a car pulled up in front of the cafe and Brian stepped out. John rushed through the doors and into his arms. He looked at him fearfully. 

"What are you doing here? DId something happen? Is he okay? Where is he? What...what...?" Brian shushed him. He pushed him forward and squeezed his shoulders. 

The car doors opened and out stepped Paul, looking better than he had in months. The tears immediately streamed from John's eyes. For a few seconds, John just stared at his love, taking in every inch of his beauty. He looked into his eyes and he couldn't resist anymore, he ran to him, took him to his arms and kissed him passionately in front of the entire street. Some people gasped and others applauded. Brian cried and George and Ringo cheered. Paul held John close to him, weeping into John's chest. 

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm here," he whispered.

"I know, I know, I'm happy. I'm so, so happy."

"I'm happy too," John replied. "You know I missed you like crazy, right?" Paul nodded and kissed him again. They kissed for a long time, no one could dare pull them apart. Finally, Paul pulled away, and he was beaming. 

"Can I look at you?"

"As long as I can look at you." And they didn't take their eyes off each other as they walked into the cafe.

They sat down next to the other two and ordered a cake. Paul sat in John's lap and stroked his hair. He looked up at the love of his life, and felt totally and completely at happy. John looked down at his love and felt the same. They kissed again. 

That's when George and Ringo interrupted them. 

"Come on, we have to catch up too!" And the four of them talked all afternoon, laughing, eating cake, and feeling better than they had in what felt like years. They each kept thinking, that they never wanted to lose this feeling, and that it'd never be lost as long as the four of them were together.


	24. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all for reading one of my proudest works. I have received so many nice messages and praise from you guys and I want to thank you all for that support. It honestly means a lot to me. Again, thank you so much for reading and I will have more stuff for you soon!! <3 <3 <3

February, 2014. 

Paul paces a New York hotel room in a tuxedo. His Hoffner sits in the corner of the room, gleaming. He glances at it, feeling a dose of nostalgia. 

"Are you ready yet?" He suddenly calls. 

All of the sudden, a pair of hands have covered his eyes and a small smile crosses his face. He turns around to find a half naked John Lennon standing behind him. He's wearing an   
unbuttoned shirt, a tie, but no pants. Paul just rolls his eyes. 

"This isn't the time to fool around. We're supposed to be at the Ed Sullivan theater in a half an hour."

"Oh, like they're not going to wait for us? We're the guests of honor."

"You forgot that George and Ringo are also the guests of honor. They can do the show with the two of them, you know."

"Let them," John grumbled, laying back on the bed. His light brown hair splayed out around him, it was greying at the edges. "I don't even want to go." Paul's eyes widened in shock. 

"John, this is only going to happen once!"

"I know, I know, but I don't really like celebrating that we're getting old," he commented with a sigh.

"First of all, we're celebrating fifty years of complete and utter happiness. Isn't that worth celebrating?" Paul smiled at him, and John reluctantly smiled back. 

"Fifty years, huh?" He mused, nostalgia set deep in his eyes. He laughed and then he cried a little. Paul put his arm around him and rested his head on his shoulder. "Do you miss   
it? All the running around? The screaming girls?"

"Who said all that stopped?" And with that, Paul grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the hotel room--just as John was pulling up his pants--and as he did he revealed their matching scars. John stopped dead. "Come on, let's go. I'm not playing games anymore." 

John didn't respond he just stared at the scars on their arms. 

"Do you remember when we got these?"

"How could I forget," he responded in a shaky voice. John squeezed his hand. 

"Fifty years," he whispered. 

"Fifty years." 

They looked into each other's eyes and suddenly felt the weight of the last fifty years. They dropped hands. 

"And yet, here we are," John mused, "Alive and well and ready to take on whatever's next." Paul squeezed his hand. 

"So, are you ready? It's going to start soon." John just smiled and nodded. 

"Yeah, I think we earned this." He started to leave the hotel with Paul at his side. He was always at his side.


End file.
